


A Heavy Burden

by LadyStrangeandUnusual (Dream_Wreaver)



Category: Beetlejuice - All Media Types, Beetlejuice - Perfect/Brown & King
Genre: F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Swearing, sexual innuendo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-16
Updated: 2019-08-16
Packaged: 2020-09-02 08:02:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20272624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dream_Wreaver/pseuds/LadyStrangeandUnusual
Summary: It didn't matter that she'd murdered him. Technically, they were still married





	A Heavy Burden

**Author's Note:**

> This fried my brain. Hope you enjoy and remember the tags are for ship, there will be shippy content ahead.

Out of all the things Lydia Deetz could have hated Beetlejuice for, perhaps the most petty was on the subject of their marriage. True, she had been a part of that little scheme, and rightfully so. But, the kicker wasn’t that they had used each other, it was that his stupid gaudy ring _ wouldn’t come off _. Didn’t matter that he had died, and til death should they have parted, the ring wouldn’t budge. Naturally Charles and Delia were at a loss; all this stuff with the dead and the Netherworld was completely out of their range of expertise. And Adam and Barbara, according to them it hadn’t even been a year since they died yet, though they had a rather uncertain perception of time. They were still newly-deads, and they didn’t know much about anything. Consulting the handbook was… relatively useless. According to Adam it read like stereo instructions. And Lydia wasn’t about to touch the tome again, not after the stunt Beetlejuice had pulled with the bait and switch in its pages.

Eventually, they managed to find a clause. All recently deceased were assigned a case worker, and had three meeting opportunities to discuss parameters with said case worker in order to help ease the transition. Of course, that meant having to proceed into the Netherworld to get an appointment. Something that took them three months, though apparently they said they’d only been waiting there for what felt like five minutes. The Netherworld was a convoluted and complicated place. But there came a knock at the door. And surprise, surprise, there was Juno of all people.

“Oh great,” she remarked as she hobbled inside, “Of all the cases to get stuck with, I had to get stuck with _ yours _.” her leg was still missing, but she looked remarkably whole for someone who’d been eaten by a sandworm. A question which they brought up,

“Honey, you hang around long enough and you’re not a ghost anymore,” Juno had informed them, “And where the hell is my leg?”

The Maitlands had looked at each other, and then Adam ran upstairs only to return with the limb a moment later.

“Why on earth did you guys keep that?” Lydia asked, both enthralled and a little disgusted as she watched Juno reunite with her lost body part.

“You said sandworms only eat ghosts,” Barbara pointed out, “We figured if she was a demon…”

“I got upchucked about twenty minutes later,” Juno explained, “Now, what is it you two want? Ya already came to the Netherworld, but since you died in your own house you can always go for the hundred and fifty year haunting occupancy option too. Should give you enough time for unfinished business,”

“Uh, yes,” Adam had nodded, “That sounds good,”

“Fine, fine,” Juno waved the cigarette between her fingers, “I’ll go back to my office and get the forms filled out. Though why you wasted a consultment on this, I’ll never know,”

“Well, you see,” Barbara cut her off before she could leave back through the door, “We didn’t call you about us, we called about her,” and they brought Lydia forth.

Juno had looked at her with rather ill concealed irritation, “Ah yes, the little troublemaker.” she took a drag on her cigarette and let the smoke come out the gash across her throat, “So what do you want me to do, exactly? It looks like she’s still breathing to me.”

“Yes, but-” Barbara attempted to speak only to be cut off.

“Listen honey,” Juno waved her hand, “If her heart’s still pumping there’s nothing I can do to help. Not unless you need help putting a stop to it.”

“That _ isn’t _ why we called for a caseworker,” Adam said testily. Apparently it was a side effect from dealing with anyone related to Beetlejuice, “We called for help because of this,” and he held up Lydia’s left hand, where the big and -in Adam’s opinion- garish jewelry piece sat on her finger.

Juno had glanced down at the bauble, and then back up at the others, “It’s a ring,”

“Astute observation demon lady,” Lydia hadn’t been able to help retorting.

Juno glared at her but didn’t acknowledge it, “I don’t understand why you’d need my help with a ring that clearly doesn’t have someone dead attached to it.”

“The problem isn’t the ring itself,” Lydia told her, “The problem is that I can’t take it off.”

“I find a little soap or oil can usually take care of that. Otherwise, I hope that wasn’t your favorite finger,” Juno shrugged. But then, she took a closer look at it, “Wait a minute,” she peered, “Who gave you that ring?”

“Beetlejuice,” Lydia replied, “He wanted out,”

“Of course he did,” Juno shook her head, “And you do know the only way out is to marry one of the living, right?”

“Yeah…” Lydia’s tone was uncertain, not of her answer but what her answer might mean for her.

“And let me ask, did you let him put that ring on your finger?” Juno’s eyes were more piercing than normal, as if this were a matter of life of death.

“Wh- what other choice did I have?” Lydia asked in reply, “I was trying to get rid of him. So I married him so he could be brought to life, and… then I murdered him.”

Juno laughed, “I gotta admit, I’m impressed,” she remarked, “But did it ever occur to you that saying his name three times might have brought about the same desired results without any of the complications?”

“Wha-” Lydia felt like an idiot, “No! No one told me!”

“It’s one of those things where the conclusion could have easily been drawn,” Juno drawled, taking another drag, “Say it three times to let him out, say it three times to put him back. Simple, not really that difficult a concept to grasp. But honey, you’ve really done it now.”

“What?” the Maitlands asked, “What has she done?”

“She willingly married him,” Juno answered, “And because she did, there’s nothing I can do. Sorry to say it kid but, you’re married; plain and simple.”

“What?” Lydia asked, “But I’m only… I was fifteen when this happened. I wasn’t old enough to consent.”

“Honey, this is death, we don’t play by the rules of the living,” Juno parried, “It was an arrangement between you and him, and if you let him do this you’ve only got yourself to blame.”

“But- But-” Lydia frantically scrambled for an excuse, or an argument, or some way to convince Juno how bad of an idea this was, “But can’t I just divorce him?”

“Sweetheart, I hate- no actually that’s a lie. I love being the bearer of this bad news, I can’t do anything about this. Not even the Powers that Be, can do anything about this. A willing unity between two worlds creates a bond that not even the most powerful beings in either world can break. And certainly nothing so pitiful as a bureaucratic system either.”

“No,” Lydia said, heartbroken at the prospect that she was going to have to stay married to that demon for the rest of her life. At least the sweet release of death could be doubly satisfying. Small comfort that that thought was.

“Look, I know it sucks. Believe me, I do. But since you have the unfortunate dishonor of being married to my son, you might as well enjoy the perks that come with it.” Juno offered.

“Perks?” Lydia asked, “What possible perks could there be?”

“Immortality perhaps?” Juno suggested, “So long as he continues to exist, you can’t die.”

“What?” everyone in the room besides Juno exclaimed.

“Your souls are bound together, so as long as he exists, you can’t die,” Juno shrugged, “And you wonder why we don’t want most ghosts knowing about this little loophole. Besides, since he’s dead again he’s still bound by his name. If you really don’t want him around, don’t summon him.”

“Speaking of which, why _ hasn’t _ he been back?” Adam wondered, “I’m sure he’d love to rub all of this in our faces.”

“Because knowing him, he doesn’t know. He’s a damn fool, and doesn’t think things through before doing them,” Juno answered, “And also knowing my son, you won’t have to worry about him bothering him of your own volition for quite some time. He’s probably too busy screwing his way through half the Neitherworld at the moment.”

“Neitherworld?” Adam and Barbara asked. While the adults argued semantics and layers Lydia forlornly marched to the couch and sat down in dismay. Married, she was married, she was _ still _ married to that creep. She thought putting a pole through his chest would have put an end to everything, but the ring on her finger was like a big fuck you to her childish naivete.

“Hey,” Juno placed a hand on her shoulder, “I know it bites, big time. But you have plenty of time before you ever want to face, if you even do. And trust me, I know there’s no such thing as enough time to prepare to deal with my disappointment of a son. But you may as well enjoy the gift you’ve been given while you have it.”

“Life is short for a lot of people Lydia,” Adam put a hand on her other shoulder, “And death is the thing that’s long. Whatever you decide to do, you know that Barbara and I will support you right? If you want to have him in your life, if you want to talk this out… we’ll be there for you. We promise,”

“I can’t deal with him right now,” Lydia groaned, “This is all too much,”

“It would be,” Juno nodded, “Well, if we’re done here I’ve got other cases to deal with. Enjoy eternity daughter in law. To be honest,” she added as she stood in the door, “You’re the first good thing my son has done in milenia. Maybe the first good thing, period.”

The door closed, on Juno and the conversation. Lydia decided the best approach was to avoid the problem completely. It was easy for a teen. Teens wore jewelry wherever on their body, so it was easy to pass it off as just a part of her goth aesthetic. But as the years passed, and Lydia grew up, it had to take on a whole different meaning. She couldn’t ignore the ring for what it was, because people noticed. Her gothic tastes grew more subdued, but no less present. And people noticed the ring. Men often asked where her husband was, or if he was even real. Lydia had no idea how to answer that. The truth was out of the question. So she played coy, sometimes she’d tell them this it was a decoy ring used to scare off the more annoying and persistent. But most times she would play up the ring. Lament over a free drink or two that her husband was on the older side, and she’d made such a huge mistake marrying a man like that. He’d only wanted her as a trophy, she’d wanted security and now all she had was an empty apartment and wouldn’t it be nice if _ someone _ could take the yawning ache in her heart away, even for just one night?

Sometimes, it scared them off, even if she was interested. Other times, it only encouraged them for a night. Rarer still were the people who stayed longer than that. Those she had actual, honest to goodness relationships with. Those who cuddled her against their chests and soothed her, saying it was alright, they would be there for her. But they never were. Because ultimately, the ring and the weight of what it symbolized was too much for any relationship like that to bear. They’d tell her that even knowing her circumstances, seeing her wear her husband’s ring when she was supposed to be focused on them hurt. And why couldn’t she just take it off? Or, why couldn’t she just have the papers drawn up and let the lawyers handle the rest? And Lydia had nothing but platitudes and excuses. It was complicated, she just couldn’t up and do that to him. And in the end; she was always left alone. The worst times were when her promiscuous behavior clashed with her status as a married woman. Some people weren't stupid, and logically they deduced that if Lydia couldn't be faithful to the man she’d _ married _, what chance in hell did they have of her being faithful to them? Lydia had to admit that, were circumstances different she probably wouldn't be like this. She wasn't faithless by nature, but she couldn't help the situation she’d gotten into.

In a way, she finally understood the heartbreak behind the rage Beetlejuice had displayed. Everyone kept leaving her, and it sucked. It _ hurt _ , and the hurt made her angry. Not at any of them, she was emotional but not irrational. No, the one she was angry about was Beetlejuice himself. Ten years, ten years of growth, and maturation, and, and… loneliness. Dammit, even if it was in nothing more than name, they were _ married _ . He’d been so upset when she brushed him off because she’d wanted to see her beloved mother just one last time -to the point where he’d been ready to commit murder of multiple people both living and dead and yet he’d ignored her for ten years? When he said she would be the one he missed the most? Logically Lydia told herself she shouldn’t put too much stock in those words, considering they came from a demon, and everyone knew how trustworthy those things could be. And yet, in moments of quiet reflection, she realized how much stock she _ did _ put in those words. There was a kinship between them, she had been the first living person who had ever been able to see him without invoking his name first. And he, he’d been the first person to see her, really _ see _ her since her mother had died back then. In some ways, he was still that even now. And that irritated the shit out of her.

How dare he. How. _ Dare _. He. Lydia was sitting alone in her apartment. Another Friday night and yet instead of going out and having fun like a normal twenty-five year old, she was here. Drinking wine straight from the bottle like an alcoholic infant. And why? Because yet another relationship had gone down the drain. A shame, she’d really liked Carmilla too. But no, Carmilla had had to be a psychology major in college with a penchant for the spooky.

“I’m telling you Lydia,” Carmilla had said, “You have an unhealthy attachment to this person, for someone you claim you don’t care about. Why not try talking to him before you decide anything?”

“Well it’s not that simple Carmi!” Lydia yelled out to the empty air. Carmilla had thought all of the infidelity was Lydia’s way of crying for attention from her spouse. A simple one night stand had turned into some weird pseudo-romantic psychological relationship thing. But Carmilla had been perhaps one of the only people not to judge her, nor think less of her for her actions, and Carmilla certainly hadn’t believed that Lydia’s infidelity was a recurring issue.

“Dammit!” Lydia swore as she took another swig from the bottle and, realizing it was empty, sent it into the wall where with a satisfying crash it splintered into a million tiny pieces that would be such a problem for Morning Lydia.

But Present Lydia was too drunk and angry to really care about the mess she had just made for herself. But what was she angry about? Ah yes, Beetlejuice. Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice and the whole damn mess he’d gotten her into. As much as she didn’t typically care about being normal in any sense of the word, if there was one aspect of her life she _ wished _ were normal that wasn’t, it was this damn dating aspect. Damn that striped perverted bastard! Damn him and his stupid desire to be human, damn him for putting her in the position where she’d felt she’d had no choice. And damn him for this stupid ring on her finger that wouldn’t come off! That was it! She was done moping about and stewing in her anger. She really needed to give him a piece of her mind. And damn the consequences in the morning, she was doing this even if she knew the alcohol had about 98% responsibility for this decision and the remaining two percent were her last two coherent brain cells screaming at her that this was a bad idea.

A deep breath in to steady her nerves and then to the abyss she cried out, “Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, _ Beetlejuice _!”

At first, it seemed like nothing had happened. There was no display of showmanship; no crack of thunder, no bolt of oddly colored lightning, no puff of smoke from which he appeared. He was simply not there one moment and present the next. Granted, he was positioned in the air as though he’d been on top of something, someone most likely and had been transported away with the call of his name.

“Damnit!” he swore, “What the fuck! I finally get to nail Audrey Hepburn and someone summons me? How in the hell-” he stopped as he looked the room over and his eyes landed on Lydia. It was just then she remembered she’d decided getting drunk right after a long bath to pamper herself was a good idea. Which meant she was only in her black silk robe and nothing else. It also didn’t help that she’d been laying on her couch in a reclining pose, head propped up against her hand, elbow of which was supported by the arm rest. He was speechless, dumbstruck, more so than she ever remembered him being which was satisfying in and of itself.

“Hello Beetlejuice,” she greeted, sitting up a little bit so she didn’t feel quite so vulnerable around the perverted demon.

“Do I know you?” he asked in response, “Because I’d sure as hell like to. How about we start with a tour of your bedroom?”

“Yeah… don’t think so,” Lydia drawled, fixing a shoulder as it slid ever so slightly. A motion that didn’t go unnoticed by the demon, which didn’t go unnoticed by her either, “What’s a matter Beetlejuice? Don’t recognize me?”

“Am I supposed to?” Beetlejuice asked, “Look, I’ve slept with a _ lot _ of people, faces start to blur, you know how it is,”

“Slut,” Lydia said without any venom.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” he teased back. As if he owned the place Beetlejuice casually strode over and sat down beside her, slinging an arm around her shoulder, “So tell me sweetheart, what’s a dead ringer like you want with me? Besides the obvious, I mean.”

“Recognize this?” Lydia asked, all sweetness as she held up the hand which bore his ring.

“That’s a ring,” Beetlejuice replied, “Am I supposed to recognize it?”

“How about the underaged minor you put this ring on? Remember her?” Lydia pressed.

“Honey, I don’t have anything to do with minors except…” his words grinded to a halt so hard that Lydia could almost hear the screeching of his mental cogs as they attempted to continue working, “Wait,” he peered more closely at her, “Lydia?”

“In the flesh,” she replied.

“And not much else from the looks of it,” he leered, “Jesus Lyds, when did you get a rack like that?”

“About two years _ after _ you left,” Lydia shot back, “I mean, it’s only been ten years since we got married. Did you think I wouldn’t get lonely?”

“Aww, my poor little psychopath in training,” he teased, “Did you miss daddy?”

“I have an excellent relationship with my father thank you very much,” Lydia retorted, “And the only other man I would ever refer to as dad would be Adam,”

“Ouch, that one hurt babes, it really did. Can’t say I blame you though,”

Lydia rolled her eyes, “Can’t stop being a pervert for even five seconds can you?”

“With you around looking like that? Why would I want to? You know…” he sidled up closer to her, “It’s been a while, how bout a kiss for your husband baby?”

“Oh Beetlejuice,” she pushed him off of her and stood, “Be a doll and spare the false sentimentality. I’m not a little girl you can con into a bait and switch anymore, and I’d vastly prefer if you didn’t treat me like I still was.”

“False sentimentality?” he seemed genuinely confused, “What the fuck are you talking about?”

Between his words and his expression, something within her snapped. She was still drunk -considerably less so than five minutes ago when she’d made the decision to summon him in the first place- but not sober enough to simply put him back and be done with it.

“You…” Lydia seethed, “You utter, abject, cold and unfeeling asshole!” she raged, whirling on him and pushing him back with a pointed finger and every accusation, “You lying, bullshitting, perverted jerk! Everything you put me through, all the whining and pleading, not to mention the lies and the tricks and the extortion. You got your freedom, you got your marriage, you got to fuck around with my life like I was another one of your toys, and then you up and leave me for _ ten years _ with a ring and empty promises! You said you would miss me but in ten years did it ever occur to you to come back? No! No, because if you’re not the center of the world, it doesn’t matter, right? My attention not being on you makes you cause me to almost exorcise Barbara, but me being stuck married to you for ten years while you were off whoring yourself through the afterlife without a care in the world? Nah, who gives one single fuck as to what the consequences might be for little mortal Lydia, right? Not like she has to live with the consequences of a wedding ring and an empty marriage right?” 

Lydia knew she was growing emotional and hysterical, all things that a lot of people (men especially) liked to use to mitigate her arguments, but she just couldn’t help it. This was at least five years of pent up frustration with the way his stupid childish whim had severely impacted her dating life,

“Doesn’t matter that to a lot of people, I’m just some whore or desperate housewife, or a convenient one night fuck right? Doesn’t matter that even if I find someone I really, truly _ like _ there’s nothing I can do, right? They either are too good a person to get involved with a married woman, or they do and either get frustrated because I have no way of leaving you, or start to realize that if I’m unfaithful to the man I _ married _ there’s no way I would be faithful to them right? I get to be the stigmatized whore while you get to go off and fuck famous dead movie stars without any fear of repercussion because you’re not the one who has a stupid ring that they _ can’t take off _ ! Fuck you Beetlejuice, fuck you for ever doing this to me and then leaving me all on my own for ten _ fucking years _ ! _ Fuck you _!”

He was silent for a moment. A long moment. And for a slightly shorter moment, it seemed like she might have gotten through to him. Lydia really should have known better. Because just when hope began to bubble -hope for a sincere apology and a promise that they would fix this- he began to laugh. It started off soft, a breathy, breathless sort of laugh. Like someone wanted to laugh before it got caught in their throat. And then, it steadily grew; longer and louder and more insane as it went on. The mirth, it was discordant, maniacal, and broken. The broken laughter of a broken man. He ran a hand through his hair, which she just noticed happened to be purple -much like the night she’d first met him- and brought his laughter down to some residual burbles of melancholic mirth.

“Babes,” he said, a sigh on his breath even as he spoke, “You really think you’re the only one dealing with that shit?”

Beetlejuice held up his left hand, upon which Lydia saw a single ebony band. A ring. A wedding ring. No… no, he’d been the only one to put a ring on someone. Her. She’d never put a ring on his hand; given that she’d had no ring to offer.

“How-” Lydia asked before cutting herself off. This was too much, her head was swimming from more than just the booze still in her system.

“Magic kid,” Beetlejuice explained, “Unlike yours, which isn’t inherently magic, mine _ is _. The thing that keeps that ring on your finger is the stupid bullshit bond we made that day when we got hitched. And the only guilt you feel is because of your human emotions. Me? I’m a demon, people down there don’t really hold us to account for much. Besides, eternity’s a hell of a long time babes, and a lot of Neitherworld bureaucrat assholes don’t believe in the concept of divorce. Sleeping with someone who has a ring on their finger? Odds are better than winning the lottery through cheating. But believe me, don’t think I didn’t feel the weight of this damn thing every time I got dirty-er than I usually am anyways.”

“Even so,” Lydia shook her head, “Ten years, Beetlejuice. You could have come back, we could have found a way out of this, _ together _. Was this all some stupid petty revenge for murdering you?”

“What? No!” he was vehement on that point, “Lyds, I really did learn what being human meant. And I meant what I said to my mom; it’s worth it, every last damn bit of it. Besides, being honest here, that was kinda hot, woulda been hotter if it was the current you doing the killing but I digress,” he shrugged, “I don’t hold it against you, surprisingly enough. But… I went back to the Neitherworld. You have to understand that the barriers between this world and that aren’t exactly as easy to pass through as they may seem. And yes, I know the whole stupid draw a door routine bullshit; but there are times, places even, where you just can’t do that. Plus chalk is a hot commodity down there, rare as shit so that was out the window. And since we’re pointing fingers here; you’re the one who never called.”

“Never call-” Lydia caught herself before she could finish sounding like an idiot, “Oh no, no, you are not pinning all of this on me. We wouldn’t even be in this stupid situation if you hadn’t been so desperate to be seen and loved you extorted a minor into marrying you!”

“Well maybe if you hadn’t shoved me off for a dead woman-”

“She was my mom!” Lydia raged, “I’d only just lost her and you were being insensitive about the whole damn thing!”

“You didn’t even call us friends!” Beetlejuice raged at her, “After everything I did for you, I wasn’t even good enough to be your friend! All you cared about was your mom, to the point where you didn’t care about anyone else around you, but no; _ I’m _ the demon here, right? And then, you don’t even call me, so I’m supposed to spend my eternity either waiting for you to join me down there or try and find a way back to the land of the living? No thanks baby, I had better things and people to do. And as a matter of fact, I still do. I’m outta here,”

Maybe it was because they were arguing, but Beetlejuice took the more human approach of heading for her door. But Lydia wasn’t about to let him leave now. Not without her emotional catharsis,

“You’re a monster, a bastard, a damn asshole!” she shouted in his face as she physically (or at least attempted to) barred his way with her form. Beetlejuice said nothing and merely pushed her aside. Lydia grabbed onto his arm and clung to his shoulder, “So what? You’re just going to leave and not face the consequences of your actions? I knew you were a jerk, but I never thought you’d be a coward!”

Apparently, it wasn’t enough to call him the worst kind of person. Lydia should have realized that it wouldn’t be enough. Beetlejuice wasn’t human, so naturally attacking his humanity would be ineffective. But a coward? Someone scared? That wasn’t attack his humanity, it was attacking his ego. And clearly, Lydia now knew which meant more to him. Beetlejuice grabbed a hold of her, whirled her around so that she was flush up against the door. And kissed her, hard. A bruising, punishing kiss, meant to shut her up and argue where his words couldn't A kiss that only lasted a brief moment, before he pulled back. Lydia was panting for breath, from being caught off guard. And then, before she could even realize she was doing it, she’d reared her arm back and slapped him. It echoed in the otherwise silent space.

Beetlejuice’s expression changed. And though she couldn’t read his face, she could read the color of his hair. He was mad, furious even. But though his intent _ looked _ murderous, Lydia didn’t feel any fear. He kissed her again, harder this time, only barely remembering to give her space to breathe because he certainly didn’t need oxygen. Hands began to scrabble and grab and grope, and though some part of Lydia’s brain knew that this was a mistake, that she shouldn’t be doing this regardless of the fact that he was her husband and had been for the past decade, she continued anyways. He clutched at her like a drowning man to a piece of flotsam that might help keep him afloat and secure while he was set adrift in an endless abyss. And very soon the night took a turn far different than the one Lydia might have expected when she first cracked open that bottle of wine.

She woke the next morning throbbing. There was a pounding in her head that spoke to the idiocy of consuming so much alcohol and aches in her muscles that spoke of other excursions. And because of the alcohol haze, Lydia couldn’t remember everything when she first woke up; so there was a split second of terror when she registered the heavy arm curled around her waist. Oh hell no. Please let her not have drunk texted an ex. She wasn’t that desperate for companionship. But, just as she was reaching for her phone she remembered. Beetlejuice. Lydia had gotten drunk and summoned Beetlejuice. And from there… oh god from there. Yelling and screaming, and then more of the same with a completely different context. Lydia only had to glance down to confirm she’d either be wearing makeup or turtlenecks for the next few days. Hell, she might just stay in the house period for the next few days. Never underestimate the powers of a demon again. Speaking of, Lydia rolled over under his arm and noticed him still sleeping. Odd, the dead didn’t need to sleep. Then again, who didn’t like sleep?

Lydia didn’t go back to sleep, instead she merely laid there, attempting to process the thoughts and emotions and ramifications of the previous night. She’d slept with Beetlejuice. She’d consummated her marriage. She… she didn’t feel guilty. That was a surprise. There was regret, the type of regret that said she shouldn’t have done this because it went against everything society said she should be doing. But the weight of the ring didn’t sit heavy on her hand -though she assumed that had something to do with the fact that the man she’d tumbled the sheets with had been the one to put it on her. But what did this mean now?

“Beej?” she whispered, nudging him slightly with her hand, “Beej, we need to talk.”

He made a little rumbling sound, awake but clearly not wanting to be, “Quiet babe, I’m trying to sleep.”

“Beetlejuice,” Lydia warned, voice growing a little louder, “What does this mean?”

“Whaddya mean by that?” Beetlejuice asked as he cracked open an eye and stretched. Lydia heard various bones popping into place as he moved.

“Well, we…” she began, biting her lip.

“We fucked, your point?” Beetlejuice asked.

“Where do we go from here?” Lydia asked, “Are we married like… for reals? Are we going to try and have a relationship? I mean, you’re still dead I know so the whole green card marriage thing is done but-”

“Kid,” Beetlejuice shushed her, “Don’t sweat the small stuff. We’ll figure it out as we go, okay?”

“You don’t really care do you?” Lydia asked.

“Lydia, it’s been ten years. All that pent up whatever had to go somewhere. Now it’s out, so the rest is all small stuff, right?”

“I guess…” Lydia agreed, “So what are you saying? We stay married and just figure out what type of marriage we want to have as we go?”

“So long as we can keep doing what we did last night, why not?” Beetlejuice leered at her, “In fact, how about we get reacquainted again babes?”

“Are you always this clingy?” Lydia asked, not able to refrain from rolling her eyes.

“Only for you Lyds,” he purred in her ear, “Only for you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed. Please leave a comment and thanks for reading. Until we again meet


End file.
